


set the future alight

by gardenofstars (crystallizedcherry)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 08:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14667636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizedcherry/pseuds/gardenofstars
Summary: If life with moving from one place to another was easy for her, and if she didn't have to worry anymore for she had Steve by her side, maybe it was not wrong for her to start thinking aboutthis. Thisthingthat she could take back for herself.





	set the future alight

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [taking over](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14612910) by [gardenofstars (crystallizedcherry)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crystallizedcherry/pseuds/gardenofstars). 



> this is the English version for my previous Romanogers fic, taking over.
> 
> Avengers and all of the characters and the elements are properties owned by Marvel Studios, all of the copyrights are the creators’. There is no commercial benefit in the making, the objection of the writing is just for entertainment purpose only.

She put aside _the idea_ at the first. It was not about the possibility versus impossibility, but more about the philosophy itself. Since the havoc they wreaked four months ago, Natasha started to think more deeply and carefully before taking any decision. Although she was still being sentimental to Secretary Ross, she had to admit that his words on them before was not technically wrong. _This is about perspective_. Natasha thought of many perspectives whenever she wanted to do something, that was sometimes bothered her, but she didn’t think that it was wrong either.

However, when she had her eyes on his figure, just emerging from the bathroom, drying his hair that reached the back of his neck already with that old terry cloth, she began to think about something _else_.

A few days back, she envisioned the perspectives only from her own point of view. Calculating every possibility all in her mind. She hadn’t hear anything from anyone but her own voice.

Steve realized the change in her expression, though it was almost dark in the room. They had always been careful with the lights. He stopped drying his hair and sat on the other side of the bed. She looked at him with a smile he couldn’t fathom. Sometimes it was hard when they could understand each other’s body language perfectly, they were _naked_ now, there were so many facts they could comprehend from each other even just from a slight look in the eyes and the change in the corner of their lips, there’s no place to hide.

“I know, my choice is bad. This motel could have provided more.” Steve smiled back. “We’ll move the day after tomorrow, after we meet the person who called me yesterday.”

She shook her head, absentmindedly ran her fingers on the materials of her pyjamas. Her palms were sweaty and she hated the feeling. “Not about this thing. I’m used to the worse.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Then what is this about?”

The words on her tongue but she was too much hesitated to let it go. This _idea_ should be the last thing on their list. They were kind of fugitives now. Or, another possibility was that if people had moved on from the chaos they caused on the airport in Germany for the media quickly restored Bucky’s name with putting Zemo as the real culprit, they were the underground operatives no one talked about. They lived the different lives now, where supporting themselves was already a difficult task. Whatever it was, the limelight, either metaphorically or literally, was not on them anymore. No one could guess how long this would last.

“Is this about me?” Steve cleared his throat. “Or yourself?”

She shifted gaze, clenching her fists repeatedly, also looking at the back of her hand. She had gotten a scar from the fight last week, and her knuckles were still sore when she clench them.

“Natasha.”

“It’s about _us_ , Steve.”

“Now, or later?” He asked, right behind her shoulder. She didn’t know when he shifted.

She turned her head to find him so close to her. There was only look into each other’s eyes, no words at all, until Steve nodded and retreated back, getting ready for sleep.

Natasha slid to his embrace a few moments later. Steve let her curled up against his side, and she chose to close her eyes when she found him staring at the darkness.

* * *

The idea was once again surfacing on her mind a week later, when they rescued three children in Kurdistan who had been taken with violence from their family and was intended to be exchanged with weapons by an underground militant group. One of them, the only boy of the three, didn’t want to let Natasha go when they handed them back to their families.

The thought itself made her chest warm for a foreign reason to her.

At night, Sam decided to have a night out for a known, yet unspoken reason between them. There was an elder in the town, who had a retired USAF volunteering himself in the area live in his household, whom Sam said he wanted to have a little chit-chat and some coffee with until the morning came. Sure he gave both of his teammates time to spend the night without bothering someone behind the thin wall.

“Steve,” she called from the corner of the room, crossing her legs on the floor, her voice was a wee bit hesitant. There was no chair in that small room, no other furniture but a thin mattress.

He leaned on the wall right beside her, only to raise an eyebrow without any words.

“Have it once crossed your mind that ... about ... about anything Wakandan medical technology could do?”

Natasha hoped that she pulled the right trigger for his answer. She had told him anyting the Red Room had done to her on the beginning of their journey, and so far it was the sole important thing about her that had something to do with medics.

“Is this about _us_ , that you told me a few days ago? Or about Bucky?”

She did a little smile of hers. “You know you don’t have to worry about Bucky anymore.”

Steve dusted off the old mattress. “What do you want to do in Wakanda?”

Natasha pressed her lips together. “I want to change my fate.”

He was like almost stopped breathing at the moment. “Don’t say that ....”

“I thought about this several times.”

Steve shook his head as if it was the only language he had. “Natasha, this life, _our lives_ , was not the same anymore. It was the least thing we could do, the least wish we could grant to ourselves.”

“But we,” Natasha stopped midtrack to take in her surrounding, only to distract her own disorganized plan of sentences, “both of us, I mean, we are here. We have each other, it’s us, both of us against the world. If this is the only way left for us to live on until the end, I won’t mind at all. And after a long time, this is my freedom. _Our_ freedom. I yearn to enjoy the freedom with anything I want myself to do.”

He gazed into her eyes in the same way as before; shocked and almost didn’t believe her. “The situation, Natasha. _The situation_. Yes, we are free, but it comes with a trade. This is what we’ve got.” He gestured to the room, humid, with the ceiling was just an inch from his head when he walked. There was an awful lot of patches on the wall and on the curtain, only a fragile stick supported the blind above the window. “We need some kind of change before you decided to have it.”

Natasha still felt off, something clouded her head and she had that kind of voice at the back of her head although she had heard some from Steve. When she began to drift off, she saw herself a few weeks back, and now, only two of them.

Perhaps, this was the best.

* * *

The other time she thought of it was when they spent the weekend in a favela in Brazil.

At the beginning of the week, there had been a fire four miles from their rented house now, the cause had been a secret test conducted in the neighborhood. The big man behind it all had disappeared, and a group of people had decided to call the trio to finish the business.

Steve was really fond of the idea of ‘observation’. When they was done, he said he want to observe the situation, to assess the condition, and to make sure that it was all safe before they leapt off the area, but Natasha was sure he was just need more time to enjoy the foreign place for him. She could hear it clearly in his voice, see it from his clear blue sky eyes, the eyes which hid more new wisdom as a nomad.

A local girl informed Natasha that her brother was looking for her. That little boy, green eyes, thin lips, curly hair on the top of his curious head, had had so much gut to get on the edge of a cliff on the favela, and Natasha had rescued him right on the time. He couldn’t wait to be on Natasha’s embrace soon his eyes found her, and she was so eager to pull him in and she kissed his cheek with so much fondness. When Natasha looked into his eyes, she smirked, “ _You have a certain bravery in your heart, huh?_ ” Natasha still remembered her first sentence to him when she had reached for him before he fell. And now, it seemed like she found herself on his eyes. “ _Are we similar?_ ”

Natasha instinctively looked for Steve. Ten minutes back, they had left the house together, and he immediately joined boys playing soccer around here.

He was still playing, though, taking the ball with his knee, then maneuvering it to his heels, it took only a little effort from him to send the ball a few meters to the left. It was like he could feel her stare, his eyes found hers immediately.

She embraced the boy tight, and she had _that smile_ on her face.

His face showed an indescribable truth. It was like forever since the last time she saw it. Steve probably held a wave of sadness, but he had that warmth in his chest and it was unbearable for him it was seen from his eyes. He was so close to something he could immediately reach in no time, his heart already said _yes_ , but his mind threw in a few arguments against it. _The_ Captain America obviously had no hesitation in commanding people, and _the_ Nomad was firmer and sure that he could take more challenges against the world. However, this time, a soul _that_ Steven Grant Rogers had, before the ice had frozen it off thus he emerged as a different person, it came back alive and it was bigger than two other personas.

Natasha nodded, but he was still.

* * *

“Are you serious?” he asked when it was only two of them on the balcony. The roof was so narrow it took him hard to stand straight.

She didn’t look bothered, she didn’t want to force herself to think harder. “I’m sure Shuri can do it.”

“Shuri obviously _can_ do it. The question is, _can we_?”

She pressed her lips together.

“The world where we live now won’t do good for a child, Natasha.”

“But, Steve,” she tried hard to fight the urge in her voice, then she stood facing her man, “a child. Someone who will inherit our thoughts, our strength. The child himself is a different being, but indeed he is a part of us. We will make him to create his own life, we will help him to make a choice—for what reason? To create a better world. Or, if it is too much ambitious, it’s about creating a world for someone. It is as big as the former, only in a different way.”

Steve leaned on the rusty railing under his arms. It was creaking under his weight, but no one cared. “I once said to Tony—did we talk about this? That someone who wanted a family, a life like Clint has, that person is already dead, and come to the 21st century as a different person.”

Natasha shook her head hard. “Steven Grant Rogers is still alive when he saves people’s lives. Even the world turns its back to him, even the world refuses to agree with his ideals.”

“I didn’t have any idea that this kind of talk finally comes between us, moreover it was you who started it all.”

She almost couldn’t believe it for a second, “Probably this is because the old Natalia Romanova is still roughly alive. Or ... it’s only the Black Widow who wants a small change in her life.”

“You said that you haven’t done wiping the red on your ledger to start a normal life.”

“Steve.”

“And I’m an old man, an old man out of time.” Steve ran his fingers through the rusty red surface, the exfoliating paint on it scattering here and there.

“We can change our lives!”

“And the world will change ours after that.” He straighten up. “We’ve just gotten our feet back on the ground, even though, _in this way_.” He couldn’t fathom it well with his gestures. “I don’t want to take a risk.”

“This is not the risk we’re going to take. This is a new hope.”

Steve was already by the doorframe when he turned his head to her again. “I’ve had some teachers, not as in person, and they would like to point out that as much a moment makes us happy, there will always be a risk to be taken.”

The bed was too cold that night. They were sleeping back to back, and in the morning, when Sam informed them that Wanda was going to join them soon after a solo mission (—and had times with Vision, of course), they didn’t give any meaningful reaction.

* * *

When they said goodbye to the neighborhood, a boy reached for Steve’s shirt and he crouched down to the boy’s height. That boy admitted that he had just celebrated his seventh birthday, and to this _Uncle Dave_ , the name Steve had picked randomly in the Quinjet on their way before, this boy had a certain reason why he was itching to talk to him. Steve disguised as a retired soccer coach, and he was currently looking for his brother who ran a sporting goods business near the town. It was obvious.

“Can I write letters to you later, Sir?” he asked, facilitated by a teenager acted an immediate translator for days.

“Unfortunately, little buddy, I always move. I cannot give you my address.”

“I want to watch a match in your own stadium, or ... you can train me, can’t you?”

Steve ran his fingers through the boy’s hair. “You can visit the bigger stadium, if you want to. When you have a goal, set it bigger. My own is just a small one in the town, for local club. You can set a more incredible target. Don’t be afraid. You can do more than you think you are capable of.”

Steve didn’t take any second thought to hug that boy, at the same time Natasha and Wanda arrived next to him. When they walked away off the favela, Natasha whispered on his ear, her words for him only. “Say it to yourself.”

Wanda furrowed brows, and Natasha said nothing afterward.

* * *

However, they were still Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanoff. Two persons working with a near perfect synchronization. They were on the same rhythm, although sometimes didn’t agree on the same words. It only took a day for them to get back to their usual daily routines, daily conversations. Talking about missions, secret calls, living underground, and taking guesses at what would happen next. They did call Clint, and even though that man always had a sharp intuition towards Natasha, he suspected nothing. Wanda and Sam quickly moved on from the slight grudge they had witnessed.

They flew to Syria next week. Secret call, big deal in return as a promise from certain private organization running around the area if they could take the business down. The quartet needed two days to wipe clean all the issues to the deepest lair. Sam was injured on the way through, but lucky them, they had Wanda. Natasha got a wound on her arm, she was late for a milisecond to avoid a bullet straight to her, it scratched her skin a little bit too deep, but she, in no time, took it as nothing, only bandaged the open wound loosely.

Still on her suit, she found a comfortable place on a roof of a four-story building, with her feet dangling on the corner, gazing at the town so close to its death, crumpled into pieces torn by a civil war.

It was as if the town was ready for its own requiem. The cracks in the vessel were everywhere they were ready to send it to sink to the bottom. But the children were still everywhere, emerging from the cracks in between the emergency dwellings, their little feet running through the debris, they were laughing. Some were playing hide-and-seek, some with ball on the feet. There would always be a hope in any broken town. Natasha was still amazed by the fate of the children: that they were the hope like a blank, pure white paper, ready to fly off to the future, with the messages and prayers whispered to them before they levitate, accepting some writings all along the way.

Steve joined her, no one said a word for a moment.

“You are still up to your choice?”

“Even half of the world cannot change Black Widow’s idea easily, can it?” She asked rhetorically, smiled halfway. “And, yes, Steve, I’m calculating more carefully now. I mean this.”

His eyes went blank for a moment, staring into nothingness. Wind full of dust caressing their hot skin and tired face, and the scorching sun bid the goodbye to the hours of calmness in the sky. On the corner of his sight, he caught some kids running towards a black dog, thin but fast.

“Even when Shuri manages to conduct the action, the chance for me to conceive will not be fully one hundred percent. Easy, Steve, you still can win this.”

His bitter smile didn’t leave his face. “Nah. Are we doing a competition on this?”

“A child, shall never be considered a competition.” Natasha caressed her dusty suit. “So, is this an agreement I got from none other than Steve Rogers?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But consider this as a chance for you to do what you’ve decided to do. We are together, but I believe our bond is not for diminishing each other’s freedom of taking any chance possible. You have right on your own body.”

Natasha took Steve’s hand in hers. Steve tilted his head a bit, kissing the corner of her lips. Natasha didn’t let it go, she framed his face with her warm hands, and returned the kiss with a deeper one, meaningful, that spoke more truth than just eye-to-eye language.

* * *

They arrived in Wakanda only with themselves. Sam went for a solo mission, and Wanda decided to stay, her intuition was sharp as usual, she knew something had to be done by the two without any other person involved.

Steve formally said that they came as a sign of good terms between the team and Wakanda when the Dora Milaje was still around T’Challa. However, when there were only three of them in the private guest room, Natasha spoke the truth. T’Challa nodded, understood it very quickly and he had no problems with it. The king called his sister, who was in almost no time being excited about it.

“No problem,” she said with an obvious curve of her lips though she tried hard to supress it, “I’m doing it.”

“When?” Natasha was sounded so impatient, as much she attempted on hiding in.

“Whenever you’re ready.” When Steve and Natasha exchanged a look, Shuri teased them to her brother, “It looks like we can make ourselves a family consultant for them, Brother.”

T’Challa gave them a knowing smile. “Wakanda is always open for them, for anything they need.”

Natasha had no time to take the joke. She turned to Shuri again. “Today?”

“Agreed.” She was back on her feet. “I’ll get my lab ready. There are some, uhm, yeah, stuffs all around there after a series of test.”

“Please keep this as a secret,” Natasha pleaded for the last time before Shuri left them.

* * *

Steve followed them when Shuri took Natasha to her lab. T’Challa wisely declined the offer to escort them, saying that starting from now it was their private moments, but he would like to be the first ear for the good news.

“It was with surgical method, wasn’t it?” Shuri had to make sure one last time. “No other procedures conducted?”

“Only in the hand of our surgeon,” Natasha emphasized. “I’m sure there was no other medicines, either oral take or some with non-surgical methods.”

“Okay, let’s see the internal condition first, then I’ll decide the best method.” Shuri immediately stopped halfway. “Captain, do you want to wait here, or rather be by her side?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Only if I’m allowed to. What I’m going to see from her is nothing uncommon.”

Shuri quickly snapped her head and walked forward. Natasha cursed under her breath, “Damn, Steve, she is not legal yet.”

He chuckled, something that was unfamiliar to her lately.

“Wait a minute.” She paused in the doorway to the lab. “There’s no procedure like, mm, sterilization before entering the medical room? Gloves, that kind of green cloth and mask?”

The princess let a proud smile send the two into more bewilderment. “This is not your usual hospital. We have many different ways with a greater result. Vibranium is the answer to many concerns if we use it in various ways.”

Steve and Natasha, again, exchanged look, but with Shuri pacing away from them, they let it go anyway.

Shuri was true to her words, there was no standard equipments in the other side of the lab, only screens and hologram in the air. Steve knew himself he shouldn’t question anything when Shuri asked Natasha to lie down. Shuri scanned the abdomen area with her own hand using a device on the beads encircling her wrist. The result was showed on a hologram on her right. Steve saw the _real_ organ. Shuri stood right by it, nodding knowingly.

“Standard ligation procedure. This won’t take long, I assure you. How old were you when they did this?”

“I can vaguely recall my age. Still in my teenager phase, near the end, perhaps.”

“Hmm.” Shuri zoomed in her scanning result. “Here, Cap, if you want to see the ‘tied’ part to prevent an egg from traveling from the ovaries through the fallopian tubes. This process also blocks sperm from traveling up to reach the egg here.” She pointed at the screen, it responded automatically with zooming in the area she needed.

He took a step closer, his forehead was creased a little. “Can you assess the success rate?”

“Sixty or seventy percent. It depends on the other factors. Age, your frequency, of, yeah, adult stuffs, and some external factors. But with your current life now, with high rates of physical activites and extreme environment ... probably, sorry for dropping the rate for you two, forty to fifty percent. If both of you are certainly serious with this, with this I mean that you intend to program it with every effort you can do, you can stay here. I’m sure Brother won’t mind.”

“ _Age_ ,” he seemed like a bit bothered by it, “is it going to work with my real age now?”

Shuri laughed. “Your biological body was reserved in the ice, Cap, don’t worry too much. Even from the outside, you are obviously on your 30s.”

“If the time stopped when I was in the ice ... it’s considered possible that I am now the same age with Nat.” He turned to Natasha for a while, his eyes lingered longer on her eyes.

“The world is full of magic, isn’t it?” Shuri was back to her patient. “So, do you want to consider my offer? For at least the first one or two month, I suggest.”

“We are so grateful on that, Shuri, but we will live our daily lives. This is about testing our luck, but without changing all of the aspects we have now in our everyday activities.”

“I got it.” Shuri typed some commands on the hologram on her left, then she took something from the automatic drawer under the hologram. She injected the liquid into Natasha’s pelvis, and both of them only could assume that it was sort of anesthetic substance. “It won’t hurt even I only apply this on the local area,” Shuri reassured her. “You can watch the whole process if you wish.”

No one talked afterwards when Shuri started her operation progress. The zoomed image was now back to the 1:1 view, and Shuri did all of the process right on the hologram. The organ was perfectly, slowly getting back to its natural condition, smoothly, as if it was happened naturally, all with the help from the device on her wrist and only some simple touches by her fingertips, and the two was lost in the process.

“Thankfully they didn’t destroy too much part of this fallopian tube,” Shuri commented. “It’s easier this way.”

“ _Too much_?” Steve’s voice was almost unheard, as if he was afraid to bother that it would disturb the whole operation.

“I’d take more time to regenerate the cells to make them enough to be reattached. Maybe a several hours.”

Shuri repeated the same procedure on the left side of the fallopian tube. When she took a few steps back, Steve just realized that his forehead and neck were all sweaty. Unfathomable smile was plastered on Natasha’s face.

“It’s done! Maybe it’s a little difficult for you to walk for half an hour ahead as the side effect of the anesthetic. but it should be gone in five minutes actually. It’s just my precaution. But, yeah, here we go, no worries!” she concluded. “Congratulation, you two!”

After she made sure that she had no trouble in straightening her body, Natasha hugged the younger girl, as tight as she could do as a patient-in-recovery. “Thank you. Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

For him, that words sank him to the bottom. He had declined the idea initially, yet when it dawned in him that this could be a _brand new world_ for her, he felt like reversing back to be that fragile ashmatic boy seventy years ago, only that now it was much worse.

Natasha glanced at him when Shuri helped her to take her first steps to get used to the effect. He tried to smile back at her. She had gotten teary eyes, and he had to resist the urge to envelop her wholefully in his arms.

* * *

Bucky was in the open field with children, and when he spotted Steve at the top of the hill, he ran towards him without any second thought.

Natasha watched the reunion from afar, she only did that small smile and nodded when Bucky looked back at her too. Steve said something about her condition and Bucky shot an understanding look at her, and nodded back too in return.

They talked for a rather long time, and Natasha knew that; how much the moment meant to Steve, even when she just assumed it from far away.

She put her hand on her belly. It was still a little bit hurt, and she probably would not take the front line if they suddenly had to flee for a fight tomorrow. Shuri said that this was normal, that she would feel unwell for one or two days.

Seeing Steve hugging Bucky before he bid his goodbye, and a smile on his face, she knew what she should do, _later_ , if all of this worked for both of them.

* * *

When they had gotten their feet back to their safehouse in Dresden, Germany, Wanda was the first one to notice that they were _different_ , that they actually brought something new in and between them, something _precious_ , yet she decided not to talk about it. It was obvious, how they departed paled in comparison with this awe in their visages.

For Wanda, because Sam was not seem bothered by the look on them, so she thought that she didn’t have to bring this topic to the surface on their dinner time. If Natasha didn’t mind to share, Wanda will seek for the right time, only both of them to each other’s ears.

That night, Steve sat on the edge of their bed when Natasha finished taking her bath.

For him, she was perfect just the way she was, either with or without kids in her life. Even if she couldn’t conceive until the end of her life, it wouldn’t change how he treasure her being in his life. She didn’t have to make up things if she needed and wanted his love.

Yet Natasha had her own right on her life, on her body. Steve might be her partner in work, professionally, also a best friend and her protector, her friend to talk about things from the simple things in daily basis or life-or-death decisions, her partner in life, but she could decide what she would do from her heart.

They both raised their brows in sync, and she chuckled. “Maybe you’ll get bored of my smile, and this is going to happen at least until next week.”

“How could I?” Steve pulled her body to his, and she had to bend a little, revealing his dog tag dangling on her neck, with  two rings almost tangled with the tag. His eyes glinted whenever he took in the sight, one of million things he couldn’t get over from Natasha. “How could I get bored on the thing I love the most?”

She climbed his lap and put her hands on both side of his face, and let him encircle her waist. “It feels like I found the missing part of myself.” She then settled herself there, her legs both on each side of his waist. Her fingers combed the hair on his neck, the tips teasing him a wee bit playfully. He had that immediate urge to peck her lips, and before she started again, he did it, stopping only because he expected more of her words. This is the perfect moment for both of them, and he knew he had all night long to enjoy more than just physical touch here and there. “I experienced so much change in my life. Some of them are bigger than the others. I want to change the tide with my own power, my own willing.”

He trailed her neck with his lips, beard tickling her skin but she didn’t mind, more like enjoy it now, and she tilted her head to give him more access, let him scraped his teeth there with the same playful manner like her fingertips just did. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled near the spot where her shoulder met her neck, it nearly sent shiver down her spine.

She stifled a laugh. “For what?”

“I stood in your way to this before.”

“And now, you’re not, and—it’s more than enough,” her voice cracked halfway when he tightened his grip on her waist. “You respect me as the way I am, I think it’s worth it.”

He shifted to the pillows, propping himself on them, his hand traveled down her calf and back up, tracing her skin as if he was reading more reason of why he was worth of her printed invisibly on her body. “Thank you for accepting me in your life.”

“That’s my words, Steve.” Then she didn’t let him have the chance to argue. Hands wandering here and there, lips hungry for more kisses than usual, his hoarse whispers along with her full-of-life moans, his artist fingers that usually created perfection in drawing now traced her skin like an open map he wouldn’t be lost at, filled more than this night could ask. No one remembered that there were Wanda and Sam at the other side the thin walls in front of and behind them.

And both Wanda and Sam didn’t have to ask why they got up much later in the afternoon the day after.

* * *

Their lives got back the usual rhythm, relatively more stable than before, when they still had to get used to the new lifestyle. It gave Steve more time to think, and sometimes, to enjoy what was in his grasp now.

He had his eyes on her when Natasha was interrogating a millitant group stubborn member, who entered Germany to have some deals and somehow tried to spread his ideals. Give the chance to interrogate to woman, Natasha had insisted, for it was easiest this way. So here he was, seating comfortably in the corner, with Sam doing some stuff with the control on his arm.

They had been staying in Germany for rather a longer time, the safehouse here was comfiest of all, and there had been no urgent call that forced them to flee altogether. What was left to them recently was just some solo missions that had taken little time and sort of little efforts in minimum number.

While she was gathering the information they needed, Steve drowned in his thought, calculating every possibility in the near future.

“Hey.” Sam nudged his shoulder. “It’s just me, or actually there’s _something_ going on between you two, beside that _obvious_ thing, of course.”

Steve played his card: an innocence. “What kind of _something_ , would you like to elaborate?”

“Mmm.” Sam struggled a bit in describing it with his gestures, but he failed to grasp the actual meaning he tried to convey in his head. “Especially Natasha. She has changed. Something is different in her. I can see it.”

Steve didn’t show his smile. If Natasha decided not to talk about this with anyone, then he would be glad to shut his mouth. Sam probably didn’t know yet about Natasha’s back story about that graduation ceremony, all Steve knew whom Natasha trusted the secret to was just Bruce and him. Spilling her secret without her consent, revealing her old history she had to hide behind the curtain, the stage of her life she had tried to change with the help from a hidden country in Africa, were certainly not the best idea. Steve always had an alternative answer to everything. “Perhaps, this kind of life is her thig? Jumping from one rock to another, creating some different personas, saving more people without stealing the spotlight, as an ex-spy, she is used to move in the darkness.”

Sam forced himself to trust Steve’s words, but he observed Natasha well enough. attempting on the other answers. “For it’s your words, then I think it’s true.”

“Why?” Steve chuckled. “It looks like you’re still curious. Not satisfied with my answer?”

“Man, you didn’t notice it? She is the _different_ Natasha now. She had never had this kind of softness before, even in the days you two were my mentors and we spent so many days either in professional way or family-like. I know it. Something has just been lifted up from her shoulders. You, of all people, spend more time with her than Wanda and I do, night and day, should have noticed it for a while!”

“Mmm, hm.” Steve glanced at her, who was still forcing their captive to spill the secret, narrowing his eyes. “Probably you look at people in the different way now, and you just realized it.”

“Perspective, huh, Cap? You remind me of someone.”

No anwer from Steve. He expected Natasha to kick that man’s ass, who stole the chance to enjoy the view of Natasha’s body as a distraction. Let Natasha finish the business: because Natasha knew when to give or not to give the last mercy.

* * *

“Are you really expecting it come around this time?”

She was almost unable to hid her smile while drying a dish. “We are not in the typical family life. No. Our lives are not supposed to run that way. Let everything be the way it is.”

He nodded, his hands took more dishes to dry from the sink.

“The most important thing for me now is ... I’ve got what was taken from me. At least, it is the right on my own body. I have strayed further than my past, and ... maybe this is the right way to wipe out the red, slowly but sure, and turn me into someone who has goal more than just move from one place to another.

He put the last plate on the rack, and she leaned on the counter. “I’ve taken so many lives, Steve, probably it’s not fair if I try and attempt on creating a new life ... but if that _new_ life can do more kindness, perhaps it’s possible to repay it.”

When her words dawned in him, his shoulders slumped. If he was allowed to linger on his regret, this time it was still about him declining her idea at the beginning. The optimism in eyes turned into sorrow.

She turned to face him, hand on one of his shoulder. “And I know I’m doing it with the right person. Someone who knows the truth more than anyone else, who has witnessed destuction but is standing still with all the kindness he has from the start, who is still relentlessly fighting even the world turns its back on him.” And it’s out of his prediction, she embraced him fully with her warmth.

She still has her words that made him speechless, her voice was stifled a little on his shirt. “Perhaps I’m hoping too much. I probably, without realizing it, would put too much burden when we have a child in the future, if this works. But—but I really want to do the best in my chaotic life. I want to create a new life that is far more better than mine, as a living proof that I can do the right thing in my whole life.”

He caressed her back with every affection he could pour down at the moment, mumbling on the top of her head. “You are saying that as if you have never saved the world.”

Steve could feel her smile.

* * *

They moved to Taiwan two weeks later.

That time, he noticed something was off from her. She would easily doze off whenever and wherever she wanted to. Whether it was on her seat in the Quinjet, or in the table, even once in the toilet. She was usually the most alert among the four of them, even when she was not on the control. This is their first mission after three weeks, and it was impossible that she was tired only because the settling down comfortably in the house.

Even when the business had done, Steve knew that it was still _there_.

“It’s your third bottle, Nat.”

Natasha shrugged. “I know. Too thirsty, you know. And maybe what they said out there is right, headache’s utmost cause is the lack of water consumption.”

“Are you sick?”

“Only a wee bit of headache. No biggie. Easy, soldier.” She walked past Steve as if nothing had happened. “I want to call the big boss first. A little bit threat helps, I’m sure. Send Wanda to the spot, give more threats if he relents. If in twenty four hours it is still stalling, Sam and I will jump to the situation.”

Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

* * *

The situation turned out to be just like Natasha’s words, although it meant _bad_. Steve repeatedly told himself to stay back, but he had never been this impatient before. The communication line was still working, the sole reason why he didn’t jump into the situation down there. The three said that they had to take a longer time interrogating and the bad men had played them with a foolish guessing game, _which is the real boss? As if we are a bunch of children they can trick_ , she grunted via the comm a few hours ago. Sam couldn’t stop muttered _stupid assholes_ after Natasha. Then after that, they had to clear the bunker from several experiments stuffs and take care of the hidden arsenal at the end of complicated tunnel.

The comm links went silent for almost fifteen minutes, and he came to his limit. He pushed the lock button impatiently, if he had been allowed to kick the lid then it might be done without any second thought. Nevertheless, before he leapt off, he spotted the team in the air. He heaved a sigh.

Sam jumped in first.

“I almost—Natasha!”

Wanda freaked out, presumed that it was her mistake to drop her from her grip before they actually reached the floor.

“I’m okay,” she was almost trembling in her voice, struggling to get back on her feet, halfheartedly responding to Steve’s arm helping her. “I need water, Steve.”

Wanda instinctively offered the help, with the red thread in the air she took a bottle of mineral water near the back of a seat. Steve received it from her but Natasha grabbed it almost immediately. Natasha leant on his arm, emptying the bottle like she had drained herself off all the way.

“Don’t you worry about me. Lack of sleep, it seems.”

Steve glanced at Wanda, unable to speak it that it had actually been Natasha who had the most sleep among them since days ago.

* * *

Steve carefully seated on the edge of the small bed on their compartment in the jet. Natasha had her back facing him, she curled herself up in a tight sleep. He held her hand for a while—and no sign of fever at all. Everything seemed more confusing now. Wanda had confirmed that there was no injury at all on the operation.

When he put his back of hand on her temple, she squirmed and he quickly backed off. “Don’t.” Her eyebrows furrowed deep. “I just want to ... sleep. Nothing more.”

“This is weird, Nat.”

“As long as I remember, I haven’t exposed myself to certain substance or radiation. So, this is normal, Rogers, let me sleep.”

“This is _not_ normal.”

She cracked an eye opentook a lzay glance over her shoulder. “Really?”

“Something is wrong in you.”

“I don’t feel like making any appointment.”

“I didn’t suggest you to.”

“Good. Then get me some sushi.”

“What?” He almost thought she was actually sleep-talking. “We are not in Japan ....”

“Someone must have got it somewhere in the town.” She didn’t bother to look at him anymore, and was almost ready to drift off again when he repeated his words to make sure that she wasn’t joking.

Eventually, he had no choice. He stalked to the corner, a small drawer of their clothes—usually needed in the time when camouflage was in urge—had its door half-open.

Near the cockpit, Sam and Wanda was seriously up on something, but barely in whisper and they had been more careful than usual in their tones. They had that same face when Steve approached in casual clothes, a hat and a pair of glasses.

“I thought we are going to take off soon, Cap, and now you are going to get some fresh air?”

“Natasha wants sushi. Are you two sure that bunker didn’t have any suspicious materials that could get all of you exposed?”

Sam and Wanda exchanged look. Wanda then slammed the table between them, but somehow in a manner, she mumbled something like, _I told you!_ to Sam. Sam responded in disbelief, shaking his head, _this is happening, but still out of my prediction._

“What  is it, you two?”

“Are you sure you didn’t have any idea of this whole situation?” Sam clicked his tongue.

“What _kind_ of situation?”

“It’ll take a whole world to get Black Widow fall on her knees, but actually it seems the only way to make her like that is the _thing_ comes from inside her.”

Wanda added, but in the most careful tone she could make, “Her fight ... I’ve never seen that. She had some trouble in breathing and always backed off whenever she got the chance.”

“Wanda and I have calculated this possibility since long ago, since we know that you two had _that habit_ to cuddle and make noises until morning came, but, yeah, in the end, it _happens_.”

“What do you mean?” he took a step closer. “I don’t get it. _The thing_ comes from inside?”

“That’s the point.”

He stared back at them, but no one gave more clues. Steve slowly gathered the pieces together, and when it hit him, he was almost out of breath.

* * *

She turned her head when the door creaked.

Steve put the lunch box on the table, and she got up, rubbing her eyes, her hair disheveled but the smile was almost perfect at the moment. “Wow. What a way to wake me up.”

“Mmm.” He opened the box for her, gesturing for her to come. The chair for her was smaller, no space between it and the bed. All furnitures should be placed carefully here, cramped in the small room for two.

Natasha missed the bewilderment that was mixed with confusement on his face, and she clearly didn’t notice that he couldn’t make any words out of his lips several times, partly because he didn’t want to do anything to her appetite.

“It’s been so long since the last time. It still tastes the same.” She shoved one big piece into her mouth, and that time, she realized that he obivously had something in his head. “Something wrong?”

“You didn’t notice?”

“Yeah, depends on what we’re talking about, actually.”

“I mean—Wanda and Sam mean—everything becomes clear now.” Steve struggled hard to describe it in brief, then he decided to go with it without any further ado, “When was the last time you got your period?”

She quickly stopped chewing, and her eyes went blank for a moment. When she forced herself to swallow, she almost choked herself. “Oh God—damn, oh my God—” her hand gestured impatiently to the water on the other side of that table, and Steve grabbed it for her and tear the top open. “—Oh,” her whisper was aghast.

He was as speechless as she was.

“Oh my God, I should have noticed it—” she put her hand on his on the table, but no one continued, that unspeakable truth was hanging in the air. He caught that she had gotten teary eyes, thus he reached for her shoulder and kissed her forehead affectionately, then the bridge of her nose, her lips eventually, lingering there like he had all the time in the world.

Their eyes met and she decided to seat on his lap, her favorite place. She encircled her arms on his neck, kissing him once again softly, and he cradled the back of her head. “Let’s make sure everything now, how about an appointment?”

“No doctor yet. I’ll take the test myself. I’ll be back soon.”

* * *

Natasha put her straight face when she emerged from the only toilet in the jet. They had taken off immediately after she had arrived from a small drugstore in the nearby town, Dresden still being their safehouse so far. Only Sam in the main room, Wanda was probably resting in her chamber. She nodded to Steve who was sitting behind Sam, and he followed her.

It took almost all of himself to be patient in closing their door. She didn’t have to say anything when gestured to the pregnancy test on the table. He didn’t need to check it twice to know exactly what the result was. Her smile, her gleaming eyes, her fidgeting as if she couldn’t contain the excitement anymore spoke all the confirmation he needed. He pulled her into his arms, she held his face and in between the slow, languid kisses, she whispered,

“Am I worth of this?”

“There always be a way to redeem, Natasha,” he threaded his fingers through her hair. There was some knots, but he didn’t care at all. “When will we tell Sam and Wanda?”

She put her finger on his lips. “Let this be a secret for a while.”

“Now or later, they will find out. They have assumed this—”

“This is indeed about timing, Steve. Keep this to ourselves at this time. I just want to tell Shuri directly, she shall not find this out from anyone else but me. She is my hero.”

“Great.” He pulled her impossibly closer. “I don’t expect it to be ... this quick ....”

“Mmm, hm, with whom do you think I’m living my life with?” She poked his chest. “Super soldier.”

He chuckled almost quietly. “You have to stop putting yourself in the future missions.”

“Unfortunately. But ... it is worth it.”

* * *

There was only a box of donuts on their dining table, and she gladly welcomed them to her almost-empty stomach. Wanda had just done washing her cereal bowl, and she sat across her.

“Sam joined Steve for the morning run,” she said. “An hour ago.”

“Mm.” She chewed the one with blueberry sauce. “He woke me up too.”

“But the bed was comfier.”

“Exactly.”

“Or, it was for something else.” Wanda cocked her head when Natasha noticed the certain tone on her words. Wanda’s smile was full of meaning no words could convey.

Before she processed any thought to hide anything she could, the donut box was taken from here and there it was: a cartoon full of apples, tomatoes, plums, even bananas. She lifted her head to find Steve’s commanding eyes.

“Steve!”

He shook his head, and took a seat beside her, hindering her from reaching the box by lifting it in the air. “You, take those instead of these sweets. I demand you.”

She scrunched up her nose, but taking an apple nevertheless, lazily took her first bite. Wanda gave both a knowing look, and Natasha was sure, she _didn’t have_ to tell her _. She knew._

* * *

Steve caught her silhoutte in the darkness, standing by the window. She crossed her arms on her chest, observing whatever-it-was on the lawn. He decided not to interrupt her thought, instead he was just standing there in the doorframe, as if assessing the situation, and it once again hit him that from now on, many things would change between them.

He somehow couldn’t believe it, still seemed like too good to be true for him, yet, this was _real_.

He ended up on the bed without saying anything to her, but she knew best, joining him and curling up with his arm around her shoulders.

Steve was trying to gather back all of that young Steve Roger’s soul, that probably had not died by the cold, a pure soul inside a Brooklyn kid who treasured all form of humanity, all form of life. While now he answered humanity’s call because he felt like _it was the way it should be_ , yet that _old_ Steven Grant Rogers must think that the need to save all lives came from his deepest heart, that his very soul couldn’t let any peace be attacked, that his pure heart wanted to help anyone in this world. The old him had had so many hopes on lives, had wanted the whole world to know that _hope_ itself was beautiful.

It was true that the changing life and world had that doctrine in him, that this world was a reality we couldn’t be forced to alter by our own will. The life was a fragile thing in the tide of fate, and we have to accept the world as the way it was, we should know our position enough not to shape it as we wanted it to be.

Yet, life is still _life_ , that must be protected, must be given any way possible for it to exist, because it had _right_ to be.

And now, knowing that Natasha and he was able to _create_ a life that was their own, he was taking a guess: could he protect it and accept it as the way it would be—and not to command it like the way he wanted it to be, for he didn’t get any chance to make the world be like that?

Natasha poked his cheek. “I know you’re stil up.”

He chuckled, kissing the top of her head. “It’s hard to sleep when I’m having this kind of joy.”

“You deserve this.”

He stared at the ceiling. “Last year ... I thought that I couldn’t get back to my old self. The old self who wanted a family, stability, have a normal life ....”

“Just like a simple mind can change the world, the world itself can change the mind easily, Steve.”

“Yeah, that’s why you are here, right?”

“I choose to.”

A few minutes later, all he could heard was his own heartbeat, along with hers—

—and, he was so eager to imagine the still-blurred future: _one more heartbeat to listen to in the silence, soon_.

* * *

He demanded her to see a doctor, but she asked for a requirement:

“Okay, we’ll go, after this mission. Take that anti-resistant bacteria tube in an hour, then I’ll follow your order, Captain.”

Thus Steve, Wanda, and Sam penetrated the target building, leaving her behind in the charge of the last back up. Sam must have found it out from Wanda, she thought, and it was perfectly obvious for this was the first time she didn’t volunteer to be the first to infiltrate, and just assessing the situation in the jet.

The ‘tube’ was actually Maria’s ‘request’. There were many things Maria (and Nick) could do by themselves, but sometimes help was needed, and they just knew how to reach them under the radar. However the situation was, Natasha and Steve were on Maria’s list of few people she trusted at the moment, mostly on certain issues like this.

The first attempt in clearing the front part of the building was successed in twenty minutes, thanks to newly upgraded Redwing. And in forty-five minutes later, Steve confirmed all-clear. She smiled on the pilot seat when she heard his prideful voice, and she could see him smirk on the other side of the line. It turned to a grin when he said, _decide which alias you’ll go with in the town_. They completely ignored Sam and Wanda who clearly heard the line, either it made them more understand about their private situation or they turned to be more confused.

“I’ll go with Sarah Maverick. The ID is the closest I can reach right now.”

* * *

_Eight weeks, Mrs. Maverick_ , and Natasha couldn’t help but smile all the way home. _So far, I see no problem in particular. Eat healthy food for you and the baby’s sake. Congratulation on the good news._ And the second sentence was clearly his way to win over their future argument in their breakfast.

Natasha didn’t tell Steve about something in particular, for she could make her way out of it by herself: the night before, she had dreamed faceless bodies, she had recognized them from their clothes. They had been part of the black and red history she carried on her shoulders: soul taken by orders, innocents being ripped off not for their felonies, children fell out of her calculation.

Then she had felt someone reached for her hand. Small and warm hand, leading her through the dead bodies, even when the bodies cursing them on their steps.

At the end of the road, the young boy beside her crouched down, feeding a thin dog, sharing bread with other children, still faceless, but with the same clothes with the bodies before. What happened next had been the similar scene, with people coming to their way, with also the same clothes, but in younger bodies.

Natasha was not a fan of symbolism or superstitious signs, but she knew exactly that there would always be hope for everything.

She might have been a sinner, but she was no longer on that way.

She answered humanity’s call, and she hoped that lives could grow once again in her hands,

 _and in this kid’s hand_.

James Rogers. Natasha had decided.

* * *

Natasha thought she had another nightmare, for the sound of someone’s fighting and slamming furnitures, but her instinct as Black Widow jolted her up.

There was another swatting sound, harder, body slammed on the floor. Before she could scream out Steve’s name in the dark or find her gun in the drawer, someone bursting in from the window behind her, sending the shards everywhere and she immediately spotted the move right when her eyes adjusted with the pit black room. Natasha jumped to the man from bed, aiming right at his shoulders and choked him with her legs, repeatedly smacking his head with the full strength on her elbow. The intruder fell to the floor after a few hit, she landed on the floor only to get back to him and slamming down on his ribs, holding him on place with forearm on his neck. She turned her head when Steve turned on the light, and he was done too with his business.

Steve easily lifted off the man off the ground, and the latter raised his hands in surrender, stammered in German with fear in his voice.

She rolled her eyes. “Low-level neighborhood thieves. What are we? Rich enough to be their targets?”

“I told you about that sport car. Bringing it from the States is clearly not the best choice.”

“Oh come on Steve, that little baby helps us to communicate with Maria more often while on the road. You can ask her why she installed the device there instead of somewhere else.”

Steve dropped that man to the floor, and he quickly got to his knees, hands raised too in the air with his head hung low. Natasha was back to her straight face, and went to emergency call immediately, speaking in clear German with certain dialect that Steve envied. She walked to the window as if nothing happened.

There was a slight worry in Steve’s eyes, but she acted like it was not a problem at all.

“You okay?”

“No biggie. Black Widow still can kick some people’s asses.”

And he knew that this kind of feeling will cloud his head for some months ahead, but he knew Natasha like himself, he should worry less, at least. There should be no problem, she could handle this.

* * *

There should be no problem _,_

it _shouldn’t_ right?

Natasha knew her body and her limit. She had gotten certain treatment to prevent her from easily getting sick and to resist some types of simple illness.

Nevertheless, on their first new day in Izmir, Turkey, it was clearly _a problem_.

She suddenly woke to a severe cramp at the pit of her belly, it hit her harder than ever, even more than her own Widow’s Bite did.

Steve had never been this panic before. When he did a voice command for his phone to find nearby hospital, he sounded like commading a team with rage. He had no time to explain all to Sam and Wanda who were up right when Natasha screamed once. What they both knew was that they couldn’t interfere, this situation was code red.

Moments when Natasha was admitted to the ER, when the doctor on duty ordered some emergency medical treatment to ease her pain were blurred in his eyes. They all looked like a series of dream, tried to reach for him, emerging from the unconsciousness. Yet they felt too real if they were merely nightmare.

And the doctor’s conclusion was like ghostly whisper to his ears. He had known that this was going to happen when he assessed the situation and his logic said so, there was no hope that could tell him otherwise. It was a weak hope, because this was the situation he feared before and he saw it with his own eyes, it all was real.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Maverick, but there always be another chance.” The doctor clapped him on the shoulder before walked away.

It meant nothing.

Now, when she was still under the anesthetical side effect, Steve didn’t have any idea where to start.

* * *

The life as Black Widow pushed her to be used to take as many measurements of situation as possible at a short time, then predict the possible results in much shorter time. Put aside your feeling, let go of your emotion. Narrow the result, what was left was the highest possibility.

And that was how she got a grip of the whole situation when she opened her eyes.

“Nat ....”

Natasha fully understood that even Steve couldn’t describe it in any words. They were holding hands as if their lives depended on it. He brought her hand to his lips, lingering the kiss, and then it hit her. She couldn’t help but cry.

“James ... James ....” She called out under her breath, the name whose body she couldn’t ever hold, couldn’t be held by Steve, wouldn’t make it to the future where both of them would have taught him about their lives and their mistakes, only for James not to go the same way.

* * *

“There is a lot of factors,” the OB-GYN said to her, who is probably in mid 40s, and she looked at Steve more than she should as if she recognized him, made him a little bit more anxious. “It could be caused by fatigue, infection, hormonal issues, physical problems, or a certain abnormality occuring.”

She gripped his hand on the armrest after the last words. She believe that it was not Shuri’s mistake, but probably the _issue_ had been occuring since years ago, when her young body had been forced to accept a regulation regarding that damn _graduation ceremony_.

Or, maybe two men at that night.

Whichever it was, it could not bring their James back to their hands.

* * *

Natasha was obviously not a melancholic type, but Steve knew it exactly that she was still holding back her tears sometimes. He often found her standing by the window, staring blankly into the horizon, or laying on the bed too long without getting any sleep at all. Sam and Wanda had been informed at the same day as it had happened, Steve had told them piece by piece and let them gather those all by themselves. Both understood no to talk about it after Natasha had been recharged from the hospital, and the house had been quieter than usual until now.

Steve found her staring into her palm while sitting on the edge of their bed, head hanging low and her blonde hair concealing her eyes. She didn’t say any words when he sat by her side, looking at her with more that any softness he had ever given. He ran her fingers on her hair, tucked a strand behind her ear.

“If you feel guilty, you can share it with me.”

Natasha lifted her head. “This loss is too complicated that I don’t have any idea how to say it to you.” But she was smiling, looking at his eyes with every bit of happiness had left in her, giving warmth that he could feel to his chest. “What happened was what it was. What is left in me now is what I deserve. This kind of thought ... helps me to keep being on the ground. And, one thing, Steve,” she paused to touch his face, almost tentatively, as if she needed a confirmation that he was still here, _with her_ , “it _happened_. James _was_ here. And now the fact that he’s gone, it doesn’t change the fact that I was actually his mother, and you, _his father_ , even just for a short time. It makes me realize, that I actually have power to make decision over my own body. I have moved on from my past. I have redeemed myself.”

He was still for a few minutes, Natasha had to get him out of his head with planting a light kiss on his lips. Steve pulled her into a hug, so tight it looked like it was him who needed strength. Natasha could do so many things with her own hands, Natasha was unbreakable. At this point, he was sure, that it was him who depended on her so that he could be standing as a whole piece.

“To have him for a moment is better than never did at all. To have a such experience after I assumed that I couldn’t even live my future with my own child ... it is enough to make me feel grateful.”

“I ....” He followed her eyes, but then he was lost again.

“If you want to ask whether I am still mourning or not, it’s better for you to think about yourself first, Steve. Are you okay? Stop worrying me ....” She ran her fingertips on the apple of his cheek. “Take care of yourself. You are losing him too. It’s okay if you want to cry.”

For a moment, his vision was all blurry, he lost his focus on everything. “Before, I was often wondering whether he was real or not—whether it was just a dream or not. Too magical to be true. After all, I threw away all of the dream about creating a family of my own. I am still here in this century to answer the call for peace. However, after all of the new things ... I accept the change, including my reversal to be the old me, slowly, for smaller things ....”

“And James was a part of it.”

He nodded weakly. “When he’s gone ... I felt like more than just empty.”

She took him to her arms, and now she didn’t have any idea, which of both of them who needed more hug than the other, but now, whoever it was, the most important fact that they were here for each other.

* * *

Wanda took a seat beside her on that quiet afternoon. Natasha had just woken up, and Steve along with Sam had some business out there. Steve decided to give her more rest, and Natasha was sure that Steve asked Wanda to stay for her.

The younger woman observed Natasha, attempting to understand her while trying so hard not to look into Natasha’s mind.

“I’m sorry for not telling you earlier, Wanda.” Natasha lift a half spoonful of her cereal, almost shove it into her mouth, but decided to put it down again. “Since the beginning, this is a series of complicated stuff.”

“I do understand.” Wanda took her hand in hers. “I am sorry for the loss.”

Natasha smiled in response. “His name was James.”

She recognized immediately, “Barnes?”

Natasha nodded. “That was the first thing came up in my mind even when we hadn’t had him yet. The name ... Steve treasures it a lot. Bucky is a part of his life’s history, more than I am to him. It was the best choice.”

“Both of you loved him even before he could hug you to thank you, even before you could see his face. Now even when he’s gone, he is still loved. A chance full of love ... it is the greatest moment. Steve and you still have so many chances to try again, Natasha.”

Natasha closed her eyes and let the tears roll down her cheeks, she smiled, wiped away the tears, and return her hug.

* * *

That night, it was him who hung low his head, sitting on a small chair near their bed, his figure was too big for it. His hands clasped on his lap, and Natasha seated on the edge of the bed, hold out her hands and took his. Holding it without saying anything. Then he raised her hand to his lips, kissing the back of it, as if Natasha and every inch of her skin was the last strand of prayers he could make to keep being alive.

Natasha shifted to his lap. “We can try again.” The words were for him, but it still sounded like it was her line to make herself stronger again.

“I couldn’t protect him in the first stage of his life.”

“Steve, please. If there should be someone to blame for this whole ordeal, it was me. I was his mother, he was inside me.”

“I was _his father_.”

“Did we agree that this is _not_ a mistake?”

The emphasize sent him back to his contemplation. He embraced her, inhaling the calming scent that he could only take when he was this close to her.

He closed his eyes, his head on the crook of her neck. She did the same, and they swam into the darkness, the pit black of their own mind. Since the beginning, their strength was not only to fight, she was sure. She had been trained to put aside the sadness, regret, rage, the need to mourn, and maybe this was the time to get back to be the Black Widow.

The Black Widow to the Captain America.

**end.**

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: so ...guys, the thing I had left in me when I wrote the medical part was ... my high school memory about the subject orz. Also some help from the internet. Pardon me if I did some wrong, we can discuss it together tho!
> 
> I published the Bahasa Indonesia version a few days ago, and castielgurl asked me whether I could translate it or not, for there was someone who wanted to read it but Google Translate didn't help much. Hopefully this can be satisfy you, though! :)
> 
> And the hardest part in writing this was the ‘reason’ of Natasha’s choice. I had been trying hard to be careful in arranging her thoughts to form a decision of her own, and hopefully I didn’t end up in degrading anything. if you still find something off, let’s discuss it altogether. after all, her characterization and all aspects in her are still a homework for me. I love to observe her, to understand her, all of Black Widow has in her life is interesting for me. 
> 
> last but not least ... english is like, my third language, i use local language to my family and coworkers, sometimes national language in formal occasion, and english is just for internet friends or some of studying stuff. sorry for some mistakes and i’m so open for you all to improve my writing! i often suck at prepositional use and synonyms, all i usually use is everyday language and perhaps it’s not enough for things like long story, haha. but, after all, this is probably the longest english oneshot i’ve ever written. wow. thank you romanogers for giving me such a power. 
> 
> thank you for reading, tho! have a nice day everyone!


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